Dang, now I'm homesick. There's nothing quite like that flat nothingness of an Indiana highway. Was that Highway 63? or 41? I'm originally from Terre Haute so when you got in the vicinity of West Lafayette you were near my old stompin' ground. In the summer we kids (all six of us in a three seater station wagon) would chant "Moo Moo Yum Yum" as we passed endless fields of corn. I can't understand why my parents didn't just dump us out in a field and drive away.

Back in the 80's I would drive from my home in St. Paul down through Illinois and Indiana and Ohio once or twice each month. In the summer it was amazing! Drive a thousand miles through corn and soybeans! It never changed.God! What a wealthy country!Hope we don't screw it up.

Then we come to the farmlandsand the undeveloped areas.And I have learned how these things work together.I see the parkway that passes through them all.And I have learned how to look at these things and I say,I wouldn't live there if you paid me.I wouldn't live like that, no siree!I wouldn't do the things the way those people do.I wouldn't live there if you paid me to.

Robin, I'm thinking that's I-65, on the way to or from Chicago. I've had some dicey traveling on that road in winter, when the wind blows snow over the open fields and across the highway. I miss my family, and friends, and White Castle, and Steak 'n Shake...

At 21 I was determined to live in cold country so I moved from the deep south to Alaska. Leaving Alaska I wanted to live in small town America and considered somewhere in Indiana. Alas I moved back to the heat and humidity of the South where I'm looking at the remains of our second snow of the year. But I'm glad I moved back home because my father died only a couple of years later, too young, and I was able to be there during his illness. I'm afraid the monotony of that landscape depresses me.

I think thats 65 heading north towards Chicago. The trailer at 28 seconds might be an advertisement for Fair Oaks Farms at Mile 220. I grew up in a small town named in NW Indiana, so I've probably driven that route a hundred times.

I can only assume fear of prosecution. The six of us squabbled like cats and dogs. No sane person would have wanted to travel with us. Bring my car sick sister into the mix and you have hell in a station wagon.

I grew up in NW Indiana and never knew about the small town named "in NW Indiana." There were only five of us (four in the back seat, one up front with the parents) but I would put us up against anyone in an obnoxious contest.

And, oh boy, did I get carsick, riding in the middle of the back seat of those BIG ol sedans back in the fifties. And those who didn't get carsick just knew, for certain, that I was faking it so I could get a window seat.